


The Bear, the Lion, and the Maiden of Harrenhal

by imagineagreatadventure



Series: My JB Appreciation Week 2015 Fics [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, F/M, Jaime/Brienne Appreciation Week, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 07:59:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4952620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagineagreatadventure/pseuds/imagineagreatadventure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brienne Tarth visits the historical site of Harrenhal to do research for her dissertation, but finds more than she wants or needs there. </p><p>JB Week Day Four: Gold</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bear, the Lion, and the Maiden of Harrenhal

 The gold lettering on the plaque below the statue glittered underneath the sun, its rays pressing onto Brienne’s back despite the autumn season.

  _The Bear and the Maiden Fair_

_Created by G. Waters_

Brienne frowned. It was quite an unimpressive set of statues in her mind, but the people of the city of Harrentown seemed to enjoy it. In fact, people came from all over the Riverlands and even from as far as Dorne and Essos to see the statue and the bear pit at the ruins of the castle Harrenhal that inspired it. 

The bronze statue embodied a naked maiden was surrounded by two animals — a bear and a lion — her hands covering her breasts and her eyes wide and afraid. The lion protected the maiden from the bear, snarling at the bear who was twice the size of them both. 

The legend was that a woman during the War of the Five Kings fought off her rapers just to be thrown into a bear pit to be eaten alive. A wild lion with a golden mane burst from the wilderness and jumped into the pit saving her from her bear and her would-be rapists. 

This was all nonsense, of course. There were no records of bears being used in the bear pit past the days of Harren the Black and the War of the Five Kings happened centuries after that ruler. And lions were not found in the Riverlands, they were the sigils of the ancient House of Lannister for a reason (whose descendants still lived today). Lions were Westerlands creatures and were not found anywhere else in Westeros. 

 And the origin of the folksong “The Bear and the Maiden Fair” had nothing to do with lions — it was just a very, very dirty folksong. 

But the legend started its popularity thanks to bards and singers who amended the original lyrics and created this legend of a lion and a bear and a naked maiden. Even histories began including this tale when speaking of the War of the Five Kings as a side note. Movies, books, even cartoons riffed off the stupid story until it was as well known as the legend of Florian and Jonquil (and some even made it so that Jonquil was somehow the naked girl in the pit). 

Brienne was one of the only historians of the War of the Five Kings who hated the story. The rest also believed it not to be true, but they seemed to enjoy the mystery and romance of it.  

“I suspect the lion was just a man, if it is true, I mean, a man deeply in love with his maiden fair,” her colleague Margaery Tyrell said, her eyes twinkling. Margaery was as beautiful as the Tyrell princess she was named for although not as rich. The noble House of Tyrell lost their fortunes two hundred years ago, in a war with Dorne. Margaery had confessed to Brienne, one night after too much arbor gold, that her family was near destitute because they desperately tried to keep up with all the other noble houses of Westeros. 

It was hard to feel true pity for Margaery though, whose curvy body and golden smile made all the boys stare in awe. Margaery often complained about fending off boys with a stick — Brienne had no one to fend with at all. 

“Why didn’t she just try to fight the bear?” Brienne asked herself. Even naked and afraid, Brienne couldn’t imagine not trying to defend herself. 

Or perhaps the maiden did try but how could she without a weapon?

“There’s a better statue of this at Hardhome,” a man with a grisly red beard informed her. He sounded northern, like _from beyond the ruins of the Wall north_ , and had a rough, wild smile. He looked her up and down and Brienne flushed from his gaze. 

“I didn’t know there was a statue of this there,” Brienne said carefully. 

His eyes flickered with amusement. “Aye, there is, and it’s much better. The maiden is fierce and broad and tall, wearing a dress of bear skins — no maiden at all. The bear is frightened by her — not by the cowardly lion. She’s protecting him, not the other way around.”

Brienne did like that better. “Why is there a statue of this story so far north?”

“Who can resist a story about a woman fighting off a bear?” He winked as he left.

Had the man been flirting with her? The idea was both amusing and frightening. Brienne took two more pictures of the statue and then headed up towards the ruins of Harrenhal which was a good long hike away. 

Dragons were rumored to have destroyed the castle long ago and then somehow during the War of the Five Kings, it had been further destroyed. Dragons existed in the world no longer — and it was a wonder that they ever did to Brienne — but looking at Harrenhal and the singe marks that still existed on what was left of it, Brienne had to wonder what would happen if they still did. The infamous towers were all gone, wiped away from the world the way the golden sun was wiped out by inky blackness at night. 

The bear pit was one of the only things that was left half-standing after the centuries of decay, although now it was more just a large hole in the ground than a place to bait poor wild animals. 

There were a few others nearby, a young man leading a tour group, explaining the historical significance of Harrenhal and the bear pit, an elderly couple taking photographs, and the most handsome man Brienne had ever seen outside of a TV show, staring into the bear pit. 

Everything about him looked like gold, a golden tan, golden hair, and Brienne suspected if she looked into his eyes they’d be a warm gold as well. 

She avoided him and stood a few feet away to take the pictures she needed for her dissertation. 

But he spoke to her. “You should turn off the flash,” he said. She looked back at him and found that he had green eyes — not gold ones. He continued speaking, “It could damage the site.”

Brienne felt abashed. “You’re right, I don’t know how I forgot.”

He stared at her with a puzzled expression. “Do I know you?”

If Brienne had ever seen this man before she would have remembered. And, she suspected, he would have remembered her. He was absurdly beautiful and she was absurdly _not._ “I don’t think so.”

“Shame,” he said, suddenly smiling, each one of his teeth straight and white. Brienne bit her lip. Her teeth were crooked even after three years of braces. But retainers were such a nuisance. “I’m Jaime Lannister.”

Brienne stared until she realized he was holding out his hand and then she shook it hard. “Brienne Tarth.”

 “Like the island?” 

“Yes, like the ancient house?”

He laughed and it was as golden as his smile, “Who calls it that?”

Brienne blushed. “I’m a historian. I study the War of the Five Kings.”

“Ah. That makes much more sense. And yes, sort of. Long distant relation of those Lannisters. So you study wenches and knights and battles?”

Brienne blinked. “Wenches?” 

“Didn’t Robb Stark lose his head and his golden crown because of a wench?”

Brienne bristled. “He lost it because Walder Frey didn't respect guest right!”

Jaime Lannister grinned. “True, but you should know to look at the reasons for it, you’re a historian.” 

“It doesn’t matter the reasons, the Red Wedding was a terrible event.”

“I don’t disagree,” Jaime said, looking back to the bear pit. 

“What do you do then?” Brienne asked, feeling riled up from his comments. No man deserved that fate in her mind. “If you know so much about that war, are you a historian too?”

“Gods no,” he laughed, turning back to her. “I’d rather have my hand cut off. I know only the generalities of that. I’m a coach. Assistant coach for a professional team. Have you heard of the Lannisport Lions?”

“Of course! You work for them?”

“No.” He laughed at her expression. “Sorry had to do it. My family’s from there. I work in Wintertown. Dastardly cold there, but the people are nice. I coach their hockey team.”

“The Direwolves?” Brienne asked. “I’ve seen them play before.” Over a decade ago, but he didn’t need to know that. Her father had taken her to a game in King’s Landing. He loved hockey even though it wasn’t very popular south of the Neck.

“The very same. We’re actually here for a meet-up against Harrentown Bears. Preseason stuff.”

“Oh.”

He eyed her. “Do you want a ticket?”

“What?”

“You said you’ve seen us play before. I thought you might want to see us again. It’s not a real game, like I said. Most people don’t go even in the North during the preseason stuff. But you seem like you’re into sports.” At this his eyes flickered onto her arms. She was suddenly grateful that she wore long sleeves. It protected her from more than the cool autumn wind. Even so, he could probably tell she was muscular underneath her sweater. “Maybe we can go out to dinner afterwards." 

Brienne tightened her grip on her camera. “Excuse me?”

Jaime laughed, “We don’t have to. You can just have the free ticket. I’ll leave it at Will Call under the name _wench_.”

At her blank stare he sighed. “Because we talked about wenches. Plus I think it fits.”

“Better than my actual name?” Brienne asked incredulously. “And why would you even ask me to dinner?” No one asked her out on dates. Perhaps she’d have better luck in online dating, like Margaery was always telling her, but that seemed like it’d open up a can of worms she’d rather keep closed. 

“I like talking to you,” Jaime admitted. “I’ve always liked history and I’m curious to hear what you’re working on since I’m assuming you’re working on something with that wretched camera. How old is that thing?”

“It’s a loan from the university. And I’m working on my dissertation.”

“Which is on?” Jaime prodded.

A strange streak of daring gripped her. “Perhaps I’ll tell you at dinner.”

His smile was somehow more beautiful than the rest of him. “I’d like that. You know, Brienne, it really feels like we’ve met before.”

“But we haven’t.”

Jaime’s gaze left hers and he looked back to the bear pit with a twisted smile,“Not in this life.”


End file.
